Smoke In the Air
by Lilian Katora
Summary: Sam and Dean met Cat Violet when she was six year old, and when they still believed in Santa Clause. They were close, friends even, until one day, Cat decided to run away, and out of their lives. Years later, they meet again. They reconnect, and it's just like old times. Except Cat refuses to tell them why she left. What was so bad to make her run away? *Takes place in season five
1. Cat

_She touched the broken shard of glass with a half-hearted sigh. Oh, god. In her dreams, she was always nonchalant. She didn't know why, or how, because real life hadn't been like that, no, not at all. She had been exploding with emotions when she had seen the body. Dreams were weird. _

_"Mum? You there? Mum?" A cold wind blew across the room, scattering various articles of clothing, and coffee-stained paper. Gently, she closed the door behind her. _

_"Seriously, mum. Where the heck are you? I need you to sign a permission form." No sounds. Nothing. This was getting frightening. Well, apart from the dimly-lit lights, and the empty house, of course it had already been frightening, but she didn't want to think of the worst. Not yet. _

_"Mum?"_

_She padded up the carpeted stairs, a feeling of dread sinking to the pit of her stomach. From the corner of her eye, she saw that her mum's door was slightly ajar. Jeez, this was like something from a horror film. Only-it was real. _

_Oh, god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god. She knew what she would find next. She always did. She didn't have to be a horror buff to know what was going to happen next, because it was obvious, really. Blatant. _

_In the smallest of voices, she muttered, "Mum?" as she felt her hand push against the wooden frame, the lights from inside the room illuminating her features. She screamed. _

Cat was thrashing against the pillows by the time she woke up. Wilfred, her next door neighbor, and next-door drunk, banged on the wall, yelling for her to shut up already, that some people were trying to sleep. It was then she realized she was screaming at the top of her lungs.

Immediately, she clamped a hand over her mouth, and sighed. _It was only a dream. A thing of the past. Mum's not…_

Cat laughed at herself for her silliness. _Toughen up, girl. It happened a long time ago. Move on, already. _

What time was it? Cat glanced at the digital clock beside her, and groaned. _4:am. Four fucking AM. _

Cat shook her head at herself, and decided that, well, it wasn't like she was all too keen to go back to sleep and face the dreams again. She might as well get her ass up and take a shower.

Sitting up, Cat reached for her robe, tied it around herself, and got up to go to the bathroom. It was a bit chilly in the loft, but she didn't mind. She'd be warm soon enough. Taking her old radio Michael had given to her over Christmas, she turned on the tap, and jumped in the shower, singing to the tune of a Beatles song.

"_She's got a ticket to ride, but she don't care…"_

Ten minutes later, she was towelling herself off, still crooning to another Beatles classic.

Afterwards, she put on a sports bra, and some sweat pants, telling herself she'd put on a shirt later, this was her loft damn it, she could wear whatever she pleased, and made herself some toast.

Living in the city wasn't so bad. It had its perks. At least she was close to everything she needed-clothing stores (or in her case, thrift shops) food stores (corner markets) and DVD rental places (namely, blockbuster, although that soon would be closing down). She was fine.

As much as she hated admitting to herself, she didn't exactly find the whole 'independent living' thing too friendly. At certain moments, it could be downright hostile, but that could probably be pinned down to the fact she lived in a not-so friendly neighbourhood. Probably.

It was fine. She was fine. It wasn't like she was lonely, or something. God, no. Or restless, either. No. Never.

Cat sighed. Well, she could always get to work early. She grinned a sly grin. Why not? Nobody else would bother her at this time of hour.

She went over to her closet, brushed back all her clothes, and pressed her hand against the wooden panel in the back until she heard a click. For a second, she let her eyes appraise the small arsenal of weapons she kept safe;y hidden away, appreciatively lingering on the guns, and in particular her samurai sword.

Hunting may not have been the 'family business' but that didn't mean that would stop her from doing what she did for a living.

Cat grabbed a gun, a few knives, and goat's blood. This job probably require need her sword, but just in case...

There. All set.

Cat glanced at the time again, and saw that it was just a few minutes after five. She smiled. Nobody would be caught dead an abandoned warehouse at this hour, unless you actually worked in one, and she had done all the background research. It was definitely abandoned.

Yes, she'd take them by surprise.


	2. Old Friends

**Highland Heights, Ohio 5:15 am**

"It's my life... It's now or ever! I ain't gonna live forever! I just wanna live while I'm... Alive!"

"Dean..." Sam Winchester groaned, fighting the urge to punch his brother in the arm. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Yup. Why do you think I'm singing?" Just to be annoying, well, Sam suspected anyway, Dean turned the volume up, and sang his head off.

"Five in the morning. Seriously?"

Dean shrugged. He was sitting, dressed and shaved, at the mini-table perched by the window. They had been to-what was it now?-a thousand hotels and their tables never got any bigger. It was funny, actually.

"What else am I supposed to do?" He turned the dial so that, to Sam's relief, the volume lowered and Dean could actually hear himself speak over Jon Bon Jovi's overrated voice. He didn't have any beef with him, per se, but he just wasn't Dean's favourite singer of all time. Nah, he'd keep _that _a secret. "Obsess over the apocalypse, go looking for clues like Scooby Doo, and try to fix the mess that you made? 'Cause if you want..."

"No, no, that's okay. Dean... Look, I said I was sorry."

"Yeah, I know. I heard ya all the other times. Don't worry about it." Sam raised an eyebrow. "I'm still gonna give you hell about it, but right now, it's too damn early to be berating my baby brother."

Sam grinned. "Not too early for Bon Jovi?"

Dean shrugged.

"What can I say? The song gets me pumpin'!" He got up, and fist pumped the air, and pointed a finger at Sam.

Sam chuckled.

"Don't ever say that again. It's good to see you actually crack a joke, though."

Dean paused in the middle of his fist pumping, and looked at Sam, puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

Sam gave Dean one of his 'looks', which basically meant for Dean to stop pretending to be stupid, and just listen already.

"Well... It's been no surprise how serious you've gotten since the whole 'apocalypse thing' started, and Lucifer was freed from his cage. My fault, I know, and I won't ever make up for it. I know." Sam sighed. He hated having these kind of conversations, the kind where most of their problems weren't really dealt with, and instead they ended up arguing, and making the situation worse. The kind where Dean would lecture Sam about all of his faults, and tell him, for the millionth time how he wished they'd had an apple-pie life, but they didn't so they'd just have to grit their teeth and move on. The kind of conversations where they never actually talked about normal things. And it sucked.

"You've just been...different. Like the weight of the world's on your shoulders."

"That's because it is. And yours too, dumbass."

"Yeah, but... Never mind." Sam rolled onto his head, covering his head with the hotel sheet. _'At least this hotel's cleaner than the last.' _

"I know what you meant. And just so you know, I've told plenty of jokes." Dean didn't like the realisation that Sam was right. With Lucifer out of the bag, things had been more than a little tense. But it wasn't his fault! It was the end of the friggin' world, dammit! Why was it such a big deal if he was tense? Everyone was tense, these days. But Dean _did _know what Sam meant. It was just...kinda hard to admit.

He smiled. Sammy was just trying to make things better, like always.

"Yeah?" Sam mumbled from beneath his pillow. "Well, I don't remember any. If I don't remember, it's either because I'm right, and you didn't tell any, or they weren't that funny."

Dean bristled, "Hey! My jokes are _always, _and I mean always, funny."

"Tell one, then."

"Okay. Fine." Dean thought for a moment. Then-"Oh! I've got one! Wait 'till you hear this. Okay. So a skeleton walks into a bar."

"Of course." Sam shook his head.

"Shut up. Anyway, a skeleton walks into a bar. He asks for a nice, cold beer and a mop. That's it," he added, when Sam looked confused.

He furrowed his brows, and it took him a couple of seconds to get it. Once he did, he couldn't help but chuckle a little.

"That was actually funny."

"Told ya."

"Seriously Dean, why are you up so early?"

He held up their dad's journal, flipped about twenty pages in, stopped, and held it up for Sam to see.

**Vampyre.**

"You could've just said so."

"Where's the fun in that?"

* * *

Cat glanced up at the building. Old, neglected, and rundown, not to mention that it was in the middle of nowhere, it was a pretty good hiding place as far as she saw. _'Not good enough, though.'_

She shouldered her sword, taking in a deep breath. She hated vampires. They gave her the heebie-jeebies, what with their scary teeth, and wild bloodshot eyes. Unattractive.

_'Here goes nothing,' _She thought, before making her way towards it. Her shoes crunched down on the gravel, making the noises only thrift store Nike's could make.

The hunting business wasn't exactly the best job to be if you were cash strapped, but sometimes, it had its perks. Take Bobby Singer for example. He was the best damn hunter Cat had ever seen, and funny to boot. He was like a father to her, and the times she visited him in his old junkyard were the best. He was the one who had alerted her to this job in the first place.

Cat didn't know where she'd be, if it hadn't been for Bobby.

_"What's with you, kid?"_

_"I'm not a kid!" Whined twelve year old Cat Violet, pigtails swinging. _

_"Coulda fooled me. Hey, uh, where's your parents?"_

_It was raining, and Cat had been on the street for a couple of days now. A couple more days, and she was certain she would soon die. _

_"Dead." It wasn't a lie, exactly. Cat just liked calling it a 'stretched truth'._

_"Ah. You got a place... No, of course you don't. Here, hop in." The man with the battered hat opened his car door for her, and at first, Cat was hesitant to enter. Mommy said not to get in cars with strange men. _

_"Listen kid. I'm not gonna hurt ya. See those boys in there?" He pointed in the backseat, and sure enough two boys, one about Cat's age, the other a few years older slept with their heads resting against each other. _

_"I'm takin' care of them. So don't worry, I ain't gonna hurt you."_

_Cat nodded. Okay. Fine by her. She was cold, wet, and starving. Not to mention, it had been a while since she had a good, and proper sleep._

_"I'm Cat," she stated, as the door closed behind her. The man got in beside her, pulling the car away from where she had sat alone and afraid._

_"Bobby. Those two knuckleheads in the backseat are Sam and Dean. Don't worry, they're nice boys. __When they want to be."_

_"Where're we going?"_

_Bobby smiled. "Do you like Burger King?"_

Probably dead, she decided. Bobby had saved her life. She owed everything to him. But then, as she had heard, so did Sam and Dean.

_"Who's the chick?"_

_"Dean," The younger boy, the one with the nice eyes, exchanged an apologetic look with her. "Sorry. That's my brother. He's kinda slow."_

_"Dude, shut up." The older one slugged the younger one in the arm, winking at Cat in the process. She smiled. She kind of liked Dean. _

_"I'm Dean."_

_"Cat."_

_"Like... Kitty cat, cat, or...?"_

_"Cat's short for Catherine."_

_"Oh. Cool name." Dean suddenly grinned. "Did you know that Sam's name is short for 'Samantha'?"_

_Sam tackled Dean._

_"No it isn't! Dean's just saying stuff to sound cool!"_

_"No, I'm not! Sammy's just embarrassed that's... Ow! That's it, you little shit. You're gonna get it!"_

_Dean chased Sam into the kitchen, and out the backyard, where Bobby promptly told them to stop goofing around, they had a guest. _

_Cat was grinning. Okay. She really liked Dean._

Damn. It had been years since she had seen the boys. Of course, whenever she visited Bobby, which wasn't that often, she had heard some news about them, the most recent being them letting Lucifer out of his cage, and bringing on the Apocalypse. She hadn't realised they had been that dumb, but then it had been a while.

She hoped everything was okay, and that they weren't dead. Bobby would've called.

'_Okay, enough of memory lane. You can think about catching up with Sam and Dean later. Right now, you've got a job to do.'_

The warehouse stank of acrid smells too gross to define. Blood. It had to be blood. She really hated vampires.

She thought about turning on her flashlight, but then decided against it. Bright light would be too problematic. Nah, she was better off in the dark. Still, it would have been nice without the awful smells and the feeling of dread in her stomach.

_'Relax. It was a long time ago. They can't hurt you now.' _

Something jumped in front of her. Without thinking, Cat grabbed her sword and slashed at whatever had jumped, and she heard a satisfying wail a couple seconds later.

Bobby had said there had been two vamps in the area. One down. One to-

Cat felt something hard and cold smack her across the head.

"Fuck-" she managed to say before everything was a blur between the waking world and the next.

* * *

"Ready?" Dean popped the trunk, and as usual, they loaded up on as many weapons as they thought they would need. Which, for a nest of just two vampires, wouldn't require all that much. Still, as Bobby said, it wouldn't hurt to be careful. The last thing they'd need was to be, well, dead.

"I was born ready."

Sam shook his head.

"Uh-huh. Okay, so there is only one exit which means we won't have to do a perimeter check. It's kind of smart actually. I mean, with the whole one exit thing. At least if someone attacks, they'll know where they're coming from."

Dean slammed the trunk shut, and walked with Sam towards the warehouse.

"And on the other hand, that's just plain stupid. Your enemies walk in, and there's only one exit? Nah, that's just... Huh."

"What is it?"

"Look." Dean nodded towards a parked Honda near the west side of the building.

Sam shrugged. "Must be their ride. In and out of town."

"Or..." Dean muttered. "Someone else is here. Stay close, Sam."

They approached the door, and were both surprised to find it already open. Dean's theory had been right: somebody had beat them to the punch.


	3. When Vamps Attack

They stepped over the dilapidating threshold, weapons at the ready.

Sam spared a quick glance at Dean, who, if he didn't know any better, seemed focused, and alert, not at all in a great deal of pain. But Sam _did _know better, and he knew Dean better than anybody...even their dad. Dean wasn't okay. That whole Bon Jovi act that morning was just that: an act. Dean hated Bon Jovi, and anyway, these days he was too surly to bother singing about 'living forever'. Something was up.

Yesterday, Dean wanted to get going and find the next thing that would help them stop the apocalypse. For six months that had been his goal: stop the apocalypse, stop the apocalypse, stop the apocalypse. But then, completely out of the blue, he tells him, "Hey, Sam. Wouldn't it be great if we just went on another hunting job? You know, like the good old days?"

To be fair...Dean _had _gone to hell. Four months, but that might as well have been four hundred years from the way Dean described it. Sam couldn't even imagine...the pain and the horror... So of course it made sense when Dean came back he was a little different. Sam was expecting him to be. But then the whole car ride to the hotel kind of changed the formula, and well... Shoot. He was worried. More than worried-he had made things worse by letting Lucifer out, and betraying Dean(who stood by his side even when he thought he was wrong). That didn't make things any easier on him... Maybe this was a distraction from-

"Sam! Look out!" Dean shouted. Sam ducked just in time to see a black blur fly past and over his head. Dean grabbed his knife, sticking it out in front of him as the shape flew towards him.

"Come on, Brad Pitt. Make my day." Dean never had liked vampires, or Anne Rice for that matter. Sam didn't quite agree with his brother. He actually thought the books weren't half-bad.

Dean swore under his breath.

"Damn sucker missed his mark." He went over to Sam. "You alright?"

"Yeah. Where's the-" His legs buckled beneath him, and Sam felt himself pushed back into something heavy. There was a particular sore spot in the middle of his back.

Dean shouted something, but he couldn't hear over the ringing in his ears. Ow. He forgot how strong vampires could be, and to Dean and practically every other hunter there was in the world, that was his mistake. Forgetting.

Sam managed to get to his feet, and waited. The whole room was quiet, save for distant echoes of water droplets every now and then. There were two vampires in the warehouse, Bobby had said, Bobby was never wrong about anything, but it was kind if hard to believe just two vampires would hole up together without any sort of protection from the outside world. Unless of course if you happened to be Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt, then that changed things.

The sun had to have risen by now, right?

Sam gauged his distance from his current spot to the door. There was about a metre or so, an easy distance if he ran.

He made a break for it.

To his relief, Sam made it outside, and was even more relieved to see the sun breaking out through some gray clouds.

It was a beautiful morning, but he didn't have time to enjoy the view. Hmmm... What was he going to do again? Oh, right. Sun. Doors.

Every warehouse had its loading area, and every loading area Sam had seen had been huge, used chains to pull open, and always just what he needed.

He ran to the east side, near where the Honda was parked, and started searching for the chains. Dean must've been knocked out, because otherwise he would've been yelling and hollaring as he fought. That didn't give Sam much time.

The building was huge, wide, and...well, huge. It'd take him a while just to find those stupid chains, and even longer to pull the loading doors open. But it was best not to panic.

* * *

Friggin' Sam. He always took forever to be something done. Dean sat up, immediately aware that the one exit in the warehouse was closed, and that the whole place was bathed in darkness. Great, he was stuck inside with a hungry (vamps were always hungry in his experience) vampire _and _he couldn't see. Perfect. Just perfect. He hoped Sam had something up that gigantic sleeve of his because if he didn't, well, he was screwed.

He tried to move, but found himself chained to something. '_Probably the wall...' _He thought, disliking the turn of events more and more.

Someone groaned beside him. A woman.

_'Ah, crap. Another almost-victim we have to deal with... That is, if she isn't killed first.' _Dean had given the honour of telling a potential victim of a monster that monsters did not, nor would ever exist to Sammy because honestly... He had come to believe that people liked believing in what was known vs. what wasn't, that they liked knowing they were safe even though the truth was the opposite. It was annoying having to reassure them, and whatnot, and after a while...it just got plain tiring. So he made Sam deal with the people.

Himself? He just hunted the thing, and that was the end of it.

"Where am I?" The girl spoke, sounding as if she had just gotten the wind knocked out of her.

_'Broken ribs,' _Dean guessed.

"Somewhere...not safe," he told her, trying to be as honest as possible. Okay. He didn't have to lie to every damn person.

"Oh..." She groaned again, attempting to sit up. "That's reassuring."

"Hey... I don't do this for a living you know. I'm not a shrink."

The girl coughed...or was that laughing? Dean couldn't tell.

"Really? I couldn't...tell-Fuck. My ribs are broken. For fuck's sake! I was going to go swimming too, tomorrow. Fuck!"

Dean chuckled. "What are you, a sailor?"

"Ha-ha. Very funny. Actually..." She panted her breath when she leaned against the cold wall, sighing in relief when she was comfortable enough. Well, as comfortable as one could be tied to a cold wall with your hands behind your back, and with broken ribs. "My dad used to take me...sailing."

"Huh. Well, survive this, then I'm sure he'll take you sailing again. Just hold tight..."

"My dad's dead, and are _you _trying to reassure _me_?"

Dean hesitated for a fraction of a second too long.

"Uh...no."

"Liar. What makes you think I need reassuring?"

Dean sighed.

"Great. A feminist."

"Damn straight," the woman responded, the chains tying her hands clinking together.

"What are you-"

"Seriously. I can take care of myself. I wasn't born yesterday, you know." He wasn't sure if he was hearing right, god he hoped he was, but he swore he could hear chains falling to the floor, the echo reverberating around the walls. "Come on, give me more credit."

"Hey, I didn't mean-"

"No, I'm sure you didn't, but men... Damn it. Men. They're always assuming the worst about us. It's...infuriating." She heaved a frustrated sigh, before leaning over to Dean, her hands finding his own. "I mean, they think they can just smile charmingly, and we'll be at their beck and call. Don't even get me started on the kissing. They think that by, you know, leaning in real close," He could feel her breath on his lips. It was warm, and oddly enough, smelled like mint toothpaste. Okay, maybe he had _assumed _her to be helpless, but it wasn't like he meant it in a 'oh, I am man. Man is tough.' kind of way. No. And anyway, her voice sounded kind of famil... Was she kissing...oh. OH.

He had no idea why he was kissing her back... Nah. He totally did. Guy chained up gets a smooch from a woman? Of course he's going to kiss back! It wasn't a crime, or anything!

He found he liked kissing her. She tasted...wonderful.

Before Dean got a chance to really deepen the kiss, he felt the chains around his wrists spring free, and the woman backed off.

"How about that? I'm a multi-tasker."

"Do you..." Dean rubbed his wrists, in disbelief at what was happening. "Do you just go around kissing random strangers chained to a wall?" Well, damn. She was one hell of a kisser.

"Only when I have to make a point, and I think it's been made. Ow, that did put a number on my ribs, though. Come on, we've got to go before that vamp comes back. I killed one of 'em."

"Hold up, hold up. You killed a vampire?"

"Yep."

"Uh...okay." This woman was strange. An awesome kisser, but strange.

"Let's go! There's still one in here!"

"We're in a warehouse," Dean replied, getting to his feet. "It's daylight outside. Where can he possibly go?"

"He could be sleeping."

"Please. I brought my brother along. He's smart, and right now, he's probably trying to distract the vamp so we can escape. No, I don't think he's sleeping."

The woman paused. "Well...All the more reason for us to get out of here."

"Not without my brother."

She sighed

"Fine. Where do you think he is?"

"I..." Before Dean could answer, there was a quiet bang, and slowly but surly, light appeared from the far side of the room.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, coming into focus once the woman's and Dean's eyes began to adjust.

"Sam!" Dean yelled back, grabbing the woman's hand, and glad for once his younger brother wasn't a complete idiot. "He's right there."

"Wait. Did he call you... Dean? And did you just say... Sam?"

"Yeah. Why? Got a problem with our names?"

"No, but I know-"

"Look out!" It was Sam who yelled, and trusting him, Dean dropped to the floor automatically, pulling his new friend down with him. However, she was a bit confused. She turned, let go of Dean even as she fell, started to reach for something on her back, found it wasn't there, and froze. That was her mistake.

The vamp was a big man, weighing about two hundred and fifty pounds, and tall, too. He was dressed in a scarlet pinstripe suit, and Dean thought he kind of looked like a fatter Alec Baldwin.

'Baldwin' grinned nastily at her, his teeth flashing. He raised a hand, and shot her ten feet away. She landed with a sharp THUD.

Baldwin turned to Dean.

"Your brother Sam has been quite annoying."

"Yeah, he has that effect on people." Dean quipped, fiddling in his boot. The vamp had taken most of his weapons... But not all of them.

"You vamps are all the same. You think your asses are better than the rest of those douchebag monsters at Monster High. You know what?" The vamp bared his fangs, before jumping Dean, doing exactly what he wanted. His eyes widened once he realised the knife was too far lodged in his chest for him to survive. "You're all the same to me."

Dean, with some effort (Damn sucker was stuck!) pulled the knife from the Vamp's chest. He got out a lighter and set the corpse on fire right there.

"Dean!" He glanced up to see Sam holding the strange feminist in his arms. She was unconscious.

"Damn it," he muttered.


	4. Burger King

She heard their voices, but refused to believe that they belonged to the boys she used to know. God, it had been so long.

"We have to take her to a hospital."

"No shit, Sherlock." She guessed that was Dean. He was always the one with the wisecracks.

Weakly, she muttered, "Fuck...you...Watson." There was a moment of silence.

"What did she say?"

"I believe she said, 'fuck you, Watson'."

"I heard her..." A short laugh. Sam. "Where's the nearest hospital?"

"How the hell should I know? I'm not a friggin' GPS."

"Fine. I'll look it up."

"You're going to Google it?"

"What's wrong with that? You clearly don't have all the answers."

"I know, but still..."

"Never mind."

"What?"

A sigh. "Nothing. Well... It's just weird to have you hold her, you know, cracked ribs and all, and say, 'wait. I'll Google the nearest hospital!'."

"Dean... She needs medical attention. Start up the car."

"Fine. Just...If she says anything, tell me."

"Why would-"

"Just tell me. Okay?"

"Fine, I will."

There was a sudden rush of air, and Cat knew Sam was lifting her back to their car.

_'It's probably not even them. You're getting overexcited.' _

Cat didn't know if she should be excited if it did turn out to be them. She kissed Dean, for god's sake! Jeez, he sounded so different! His voice was deeper, and...she hated herself for thinking it, but more masculine, and... It was kind of sexy.

"What's...your last name?"

"Sorry?" She opened her eyes, stared into a pair of familiar brown eyes. There was the same kindness in them as she remembered. She smiled, glad to know that some things never changed even if Sam was now sporting some pretty long locks.

"Your last name. Tell me."

"Martin, but you should-"

"Your real name, you dummy."

He stopped by a smooth, black car, and opened the backdoor for her. Gently laying her on the backseat, he said, "Winchester."

"Hi, Sammy. Remember me?"

She smiled, hoping it hadn't been that long for him to not remember her.

"Do I know... Cat? Is that you?" Sam was smiling now.

"Surprise."

Dean looked at Cat from the rearview mirror.

"You sure have grown up." He winked at her.

"Shut up, Dean." Cat leaned in to hug Sam, but ended up wincing, and clutching her ribcage.

"Don't worry. We're taking you to a hospital." Sam said, before climbing into the front seat.

"No!" Sam and Dean stared at her, puzzled. "I mean... I don't like hospitals very much, I'll be fine."

Sam protested.

"Cat, no offense, but you look awful."

"I'm fine. Really." Sam looked dubious. "Like I told Dean in the warehouse, I can take care of myself."

Dean coughed.

"You okay, Dean?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just a dry mouth. Nothing a beer can't fix."

"Alcohol dehydrates you."

"Don't care."

Cat smirked.

"Besides, I've got the best fixer uppers there is."

"Tell me you didn't just say 'fixer upper'." Dean pulled out of the lane, driving until the warehouse was just a small dot in the distance.

"Oh, yeah. I did."

"Oh, god. You're really back. Run for the hills Sammy!"

Sam laughed, turning to face Cat in the backseat. He appeared kind of amazed.

"What the hell were you doing at that warehouse?"

"Bobby called. You?"

"Hamg on. Sorry... It's just... Bobby phoned you? Why didn't he tell us you were coming?"

Cat shook her head. She could fathom no idea why Bobby phones the both of them, but she was glad he did, because otherwise...

"Sorry. I'm sure he probably knew you were nearby and wanted to surprise us," Sam ventured, dumbing around in the dark for an answer. "You look good, by the way."

"You do, too. Taller. And handsome." She wagged her eyebrows at him, smirking.

"Hey! What about me?" Dean called from the driver's seat.

Cat shrugged, and pretended to be indifferent.

"You're okay."

Sam was laughing now.

"We missed you, Cat." He said.

"Missed you knuckleheads, too." She leaned back, sighing in pure relief that the pain had lessened.

"Say, would any of you two mind if we stopped at a Burger King? I'm famished."

...

"Oh my god. These fries are amazing!" Cat tossed another delicious fry into her mouth, and closed her eyes to savour the very taste of the fry. She didn't know why she didn't go to Burger King more often... Well, general health notes aside, she actually missed eating out. It reminded her of that first night with Bobby, Sam and Dean.

"Tell me about it!" Dean shovelled them in, obviously taking no prisoners.

"You know, you guys could always chew the fries. You know, actually enjoy it?" Sam sipped his smoothie, giving the pair an innocent expression.

Cat rolled her eyes.

"Puh-lease. Don't lecture us when you've barely touched your own."

"I didn't order any!"

Cat nodded, quite satisfied.

"Exactly." She eyed her burger, drinking in the sight before digging in. Mmmmmm. As she, a significant process in food digestion what little Sammy liked to call, chewed her burger, she observed both Winchester boys. They were older. Obviously, of course, because that's what time did to you. In her professional opinion, time was a skank. She screwed everybody, and it hadn't left her friends alone, unfortunately.

Sam, in contrast to the image she had had in her head for years, was now tall, broad shouldered, and scarily enough, had long brown hair. It was certainly a different sight, but it was...nice. He looked good. Really. He did. But there was something in his eyes that hadn't been there the last time she had seen him: guilt, pain, and regret. Sorrow, too.

Dean didn't look any better. He seemed older, more rugged, like he'd been through hell and back. From what little Bobby had told her, that was exactly what happened. Jeez, it seemed like everything fell apart after she left.

Cat sighed. She had heard about John's death.

"Hey," she said softly. Oh, god. Would they hate her for saying it so late in the game? When she had heard of their dad's death, she had been in New Zealand. Passage back to the U.S, at the time, had been impossible. But the thing that ate at her deep inside was the fact that she missed the funeral. Well, the hunter's funeral anyway.

They both looked up at her, midchew (midslurp in Sam's case), expectant.

"Hey," Dean replied, mouth full. Cat covered a smile with a sly nose scratch.

"Listen... I know you'll hate me for saying this so late, but... I'm sorry about your dad."

It was as if something bad struck both Winchester boys in the head, and rendered them dumb. It was a while before either one of them opened their mouths to speak.

"It's okay. We've barely had any time to think about it, what with our 'impending doom'." Sam shrugged. "Thanks, though. It means a lot."

"Yeah. What he said," Dean swallowed, belched loudly, excused himself, then added, "Of course it would have been nice if you had actually been there."

"Dean..." Sam gave his brother 'the look'. He was trying to cover up for her an, but Cat knew he was just saying the obvious.

"No, he's right. I should have been there. I probably shouldn't have even left, but..." It was her turn to shrug. "I did. I can't change the past. I'm sorry."

"Why did you leave?"

Cat wasn't ready to answer. The funny (was it funny? Or was it ironic? Who understood those things?) thing about it was that...well, she had been running for so long, and sometimes, when the loneliness would get overbearing, she would picture Sam and Dean in front of her, just as they were now, asking the same question. And she would have an answer for them, and in her imaginings, they were the perfect answer, Dean would forgive her, and everything would be alright.

But she didn't have an answer. That terrified the hell out of her, because she had been preparing for that moment for so long, and then it just got dumped on her like ice cold water, shocking her nervous system, and setting her automatic system to 'panic' mode. It wasn't a nice feeling at all, not one bit.

"I, um, had some..." _'Think Cat. Think!'_ "had some personal stuff to deal with, and... I had to do it alone."

"But why run away? You could have came to us for help." Sam leaned forward, his earnest curiosity written all over his face.

"Yeah, but... You were planning on leaving, and I just... I didn't want to deal."

"Deal with what, exactly?" Dean asked. His tone sounded a tad sharper than he had meant to. This was panning out differently than what she wanted.

"Stuff. Life, people, things... Just stuff. Okay?"

"Well-" Sam began, only to be interrupted by Dean.

"That doesn't cut it, princess. See, 'stuff' is going out with your friends to see a movie when Bobby's asleep and dad's out on a hunt. 'Stuff' is when you tease the new kid in the family, the weird girl with the long hair. That's stuff. You don't get to go and ditch your friends because you can't 'deal'. You tell them the problem, and they help you deal."

Cat didn't say anything.

"Do you have any idea what you did? A year after you left, Sam went off to law school, Dad disappeared, and the it was just me and Bobby. Everything was torn apart, and... I missed you."

Cat nodded.

"But nope. You didn't think of that, did you? Did you?"

"No."

"Like hell you did. I'm sorry, Cat, but it needed to be said."

"I know." The three of them sat in silence, too nervous to break the newly formed tension in the air around them. Dean continued munching on his burger, looking past Cat, at a picture of a dancing cartoon hanging up on the wall.

Sam kept stealing glances at her, as if to check that she was alright. A couple more minutes of tense silence, and finally, Cat couldn't stand it any longer.

She burst out laughing, high giggles piercing the air. Several other people in the place turned to stare at her, but Cat didn't care. She just wanted to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Dean asked, eyeing her with suspicion.

"Nothing...nothing at all." She laughed harder, and louder, wiping at some tears.

"Then why are you laughing?"

"You're mad at me, Sam doesn't know what to make of the situation, and... I get nervous in tense moments." Dean shook his head, and fought the urge to laugh along with her. She was right. He _was _mad at her. It wouldn't be right for him to start laughing if he was mad at her.

_'No, don't do it. Don't-' _Too late. He could hear his own deep-throated laugh, his grin stretching when Cat met his eye.

Looking into those soft, electric blue eyes, he admitted that okay, maybe he wasn't as mad at her as he thought. It was actually great to hear her laugh again. It reminded him of the days before Sam left for Stamford, and all the deaths of all their friends.

Sam shook his head at the both of them.

"You two are crazy."

"Damn straight," Cat, and Dean said simultaneously. They smirked at each other.

Sam finished the rest of his smoothie.

"Hey, where are you staying?"

Cat grinned. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"Ooh, Sam, didn't know you had feelings for our Cat."

"Shut up, Dean." Sam rolled his eyes. "No, I was just wondering because we obviously have a lot to catch up on, and I don't think you want to catch up at Burger King. Do you?"

"No, not really." she admitted. "I've got an apartment in San Francisco," Dean raised his brows. "but that's millions of miles away. I'm staying at the Pomeroy, here, though. You?"

Dean answered. "We _were _staying at the Rockwell in the town next over, but hey, I'm open to sharing." He winked at her.

"Well, that's settled then. Stay with me, and we'll catch up on everything." Cat got up, and tossed the contents of her tray in the trash, before leaving the tray on top. Sam and Dean did the same, and the three of them walked (in Cat's case, shuffled) back to the car.

"You've got a nice ride. What model is it?"

"1967 Chevy Impala." Dean proudly stated. "She's my pride and joy."

"It's beautiful."

"Thanks."

"It beats my Honda any day."

Sam's eyes widened.

"Wait. That was yours, back there?"

She nodded.

"But we can go get it later. Right now, I've got to ask you, Sam. What's up with the hair?"

Dean laughed.


	5. Charades

Okay, so Lucifer was out prowling the streets, searching for his one true vessel... That left little time for such trivial games as 'Charades' but what the hell. Dean had had a crappy couple of months, and honestly, he could use the distraction.

Cat, as her name suggested, was jumping all over the place. She mimed licking her hands, and Sam was the one who called out, "Cat! That was easy." He shrugged at Dean, as if to say, 'too slow, too late.' Dean didn't mind. He was more of a general observer than a full-on participant.

"Dude," he crossed his arms, preparing for the disaster that was Sam Winchester. "You really should get one of those red staple buttons. That way," Dean pressed an invisible button, and made a dopey face. "You'll have it covered when someone says, 'well, gosh. That was easy!'"

"Shut it, Dean. It's my turn."

"Sorry, Buffy. Didn't realise you were really into this thing."

Cat plopped down on the bed beside him (she scrunched up her facial features just slightly when she remembered her cracked ribs. Sam had been kind enough to bandage the place where it had hurt the most, telling her she should get lots of rest, and maybe they could all catch up later, in which she immediately suggested Charades, something they hadn't played in ages), and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"We know you're secretly enjoying it. You don't need to pretend."

"Oh, yeah right." He scoffed. "The only thing I'm enjoying is you two clowns making fools of yourself to my entertainment. And let me just say, you both are very, _very_ entertaining."

"Poor-sport."

"Pest."

"Idiot."

"Weirdo."

"Don't tell me that was your best, Cat." Dean was surprised at how nothing had really changed about Cat at all. She still had her long, black locks, and hadn't grown much either, by the looks of it. _'Ha. I'm still a head taller than her.' _She was still the same bossy, annoying girl he had once known.

She eyed him squarely, sitting up straighter even though it hurt. But pain was easy to ignore. Dean wasn't.

"Baby, I ain't even started." Yup. Still the same.

Sam cleared his throat, loud enough to snap the both of them to attention.

"Guys, are we still playing?"

Cat nodded, punching Dean playfully in the shoulder.

"Of course we are, Sam. Isn't that right, _Dean?" _To be perfectly honest, he was actually sort of relieved to know that she hadn't changed. It gave him hope that maybe someday they might...

_'Ha ha, no.' _He remonstrated himself. '_That ship has long since sailed. In fact, it's even crashed into an iceberg along the way.' _

Oh, god. What was he thinking? This was the friggin' apocalypse. He didn't have time to go downtrippin' memory lane...even if his old friend happened to be super hot, and...well, badass.

"Yeah, yeah." He waved his arm as if swatting a fly, and settled himself in on the bed.

Sam nodded at them, before raising both his hands high above his head, very seriously bending down, still holding the hands up.

What the...

She still had her arm around him. Sighing, he reciprocated the act, smiling in spite of himself. She snuggled closer, momentarily forgetting about Sam.

Hmm...

He had no idea how he couldn't have recognised her back at the warehouse. Maybe it was the fact it was pitch black, and he couldn't see a thing?

_'Way to go, Einstein. You'll win the Nobel prize yet, if you keep thinking like that.'_

Sam was now waving his arms around, looking, unsurprisingly and incredibly stupid. Dean had no idea what the hell his brother was doing.

"Goose?" He guessed lamely.

Sam shook his head.

"No, keep trying."

"Don't worry, I will, Sherlock."

For years now it had just been him and Sam. Bobby too, of course, but when he wasn't around... It was just Baby, Sam, and himself. He wasn't ccomplaining, really. It was amazing they managed to survive through everything that had happened to them thus far. But the fact of the matter was... It would have been much easier if Cat had stuck around.

_It was a miracle Sam had made one friend during his school year. Dean was worried he would be one of those friendless losers every kid in school made fun of. Sam was tough though, and he survived the worst of it. There was this one kid, Kevin, who Sam started going over to his place to play videogames with at the beginning of the school year, and so far they seemed pretty inseparable._

_Today Sam was on one those trips, and coincidentally, Bobby, and John were also out of the house. It was just Dean and Cat. _

_"What if they catch us?" Cat whispered, in between heated kisses. Her hair was in a disastrous array, and so far her shirt plus Dean's jacket had been thrown to the wind. It was getting pretty heavy between the two of them. _

_"What?" Dean left a trail of warm kisses along her naval, gradually lowering until he reached her chest. "Sam? He's sleeping over tonight." Cat, as nervous as she was, couldn't help but feel more than a little elated at Dean's touch. Each place where his lips would connect with her skin, electric explosions would set off, leaving her blood boiling for more. _

_He really knew what he was doing. _

_"Yeah, but... But what about your..." Cat nearly jumped out of her skin. She gripped the back of Dean's head tightly clenching his hair as he fumbled with the clasp of her bra. They were in Dean's room, which fortunately, had a lock attached to the knob, but that didn't make the suspense of one of the adults returning any less...suspenseful. She focused on the music playing from Dean's mini-stereo, wondering why Dean had chosen this song specifically to make out to. _

_"Don't worry about it." He tossed her bra aside, and appreciated the sight he was left with. In one fell swoop, he had his own shirt on the floor, and a second later, he immersed himself in the wonderfully charged feeling of her breasts brushing his chest._

_"But... What if one of them comes back, and we're in the middle of... Oh..." She sighed when he exposed her bare thighs by slowly, expertly, hitching her skirt up until he felt her hips beneath his flat palms._

_"Man, I really love it when you wear a skirt." He spoke more to himself than to her. He knew Bobby, Dad, and especially Sam would freak out if they found out about the two of them together. Dad would probably tell off Dean about about the 'nature' of teen sex, and all of the risks involved, but he would leave it at that whilst Bobby would blow a hole through the ceiling with one of his shotguns. Sammy... He didn't really know how he would react, but as Dean guessed, probably not in an overly supportive way. He'd be scarred for life if he found out..._

_Still. It had been a while since the first night, and even though he saw Cat everyday, he missed her. He missed her touch, and they way she'd jump when he kissed her. He missed the feeling of having his lips on hers, and his hand tangled in her hair, while the room spun. He missed getting to do things with her that he normally wouldn't have been able to do if anybody had been around._

_Cat watched him unzip his jeans, and pull them off, leaving him in just his boxers. _

_He moved his thigh in between her legs, moving them apart. Cat's breath caught in her throat._

_"Do you..." She muttered, embarrassed. "-have a condom?"_

_He gave her a sly grin._

_"Of course." He leaned over, and pawed on the floor for his jeans until he found the package hiding in his back pocket. He opened it, and turned away to slip it on. It was always awkward putting one on in front a girl, but especially more awkward when it was Cat he was with. She liked to tease._

_"Okay," he faced Cat once again, his hands racing up her thighs. "Where were we?"_

_Before she could actually answer, he swooped in and pressed his lips to hers, tongue exploring hers when her mouth parted for him. Truth be told, he wanted to take her there and then. Every atom of his teenage body yearned to be with hers, to break down cell barriers and light up the fires that existed inside them. Everything was telling him to, but Cat liked taking things slow, and unlike all his previous secret girlfriends, he intended to keep her for his own._

_She bit her lip to keep from crying out loud when she felt him inside her, all around her. His chest rested on hers, and that tiny interaction was enough to send shockwaves through them both. _

_Dean moved slowly, letting her know he wouldn't rush things. _

_Cat let her fingers interlock with his, their grips hard enough to bruise. Everything was...racing. Quick. Pulsing. Blood flowed through her body, and she felt it move, from the tips of her toes to her swollen lips. It was...exhilarating. Muscles stretched and converged in places she previously hadn't known existed. _

_She breathed hard into Dean's ear when he moved. She wasn't sure if the slow rhythmic pace was torture or pure, untainted bliss. _

_Maybe it was both. Whatever it was, she found herself needing more. _

_"Dean..." His name was like distant call from some far off shore of some far off paradise. He wondered whether or not if he should run towards it, or not. The paradise did look amazing. _

_Cat shifted her body, arching her back to keep up with his movements, and the sudden rush that came afterwards effected her as if she had been struck with lightning. All of a sudden, everything in her seemed to come alive, and fiery hot, like she was burning from the inside out. The sharp gasp that came out alerted him to go faster, harder. _

_No, she wouldn't stand for this torture any longer. _

_Dean focused on her, aware that something horrible was playing in the background. He listened to her quick intake of breaths, and the loud sighs that would follow. That was his music, not some old CD he bought at a garage sale. A deep sense of...something hit him, a colliding force that moved him, and a weird building sensation began to sing a tune. _

_His lips invaded her body, igniting the flames to new heights. and they both knew something marvelous was coming. _

_Her legs tightened around his, and before she knew it, Cat was groaning, seeing all kinds of co!ours dance across the ceiling. _

_The intensity and brightness got to a point where she had to close her eyes, and hide her head in Dean's shoulder, as he himself struggled with coping with the weightlessness that was turning his limbs to jelly._

_Dean's room wasn't that big. It was quite a small, cramped space crammed with shelves filled with records, and tapes. The walls were plastered with ACDC posters, and what remained of the floor were dirty, old shirts heaped in piles, along with textbooks, some hastily taped together notebooks and a few pens. In all, the place was a home interior's worst nightmare._

_But at the moment... All Dean and Cat saw was the world spinning, things blurring into incoherent shapes and distortions, mirrors reflecting back at them their overspent state._

_Dean grabbed his blanket from under them, and threw it over their heads. _

_"Hey, I need to breathe," Cat protested weakly, lifting the covers from her head. _

_Dean chuckled softly, the laughs coming short as he still tried to slow his breath. _

_Cat, with one leg draped around him, threw the other across his chest, and closed her eyes, completely content. _

_Dean smiled, gently pushing back a stray strand with his thumb. _

_"I love you," he said. _

_Cat snuggled closer, whispering, _

_"Love you, too, Dean."_

_It was then that they heard the bang. _

_They both bolted up, afraid of the worst._

_"...sorry, pal, but I got to spend time with my family. Sorry. Hey, Dean! Sam! Cat! Get down here, I got some supper!" John Winchester yelled from below, the sound of his boots terrifying the living hell out of Dean and Cat. _

_"Oh my god. Is that..."_

_"My dad?"_

_A door opened, and Bobby's familiar surly voice reached their ears._

_"Do they even like KFC?"_

_"Trust me, Bobby," John said. "I think I know my own boys. Hey, Dean! Sammy! Get your asses down here. You too, Cat!"_

_Cat gulped. She had never gulped in horror before._

_"Shit."_

Dean chuckled. He didn't realise how stupid he had been when he was younger. Granted, everyone was stupider when they were younger, but he had always thought of himself as the ultimate badass.

"Oh! Oh! I know!" Cat yelled, all flustered. "You're a dancing zebra!"

"Yes!" Sam broke his silence. "Finally! You were slow, Dean. I'm surprised."

"Huh?" Dean snapped out of whatever reverie he had been, and noticed Sam grinning at him.

"What are you grinning about?"

"Really, Dean? That bored, huh? Cat, I think we should stop the game, and do something else."

"I agree," she replied, hobbling to the mini fridge. With great effort, she bent over, opened the door, and pulled out a case of beers.

"Right. Let's get chatting then. Here, Dean." She handed him a bottle, then gave one to Sam before offering one to herself.

"Why thank you, Cat. I would love a cold beer so early in the day."

Dean stared at her. So he had thought he had loved her at one point. Big deal. So he had slept with her a couple of times... He didn't see the harm in that.

He opened his beer, and took a swig.

Although, since he was rolling with the punches in this whole 'honesty' thing, Cat leaving had been... Well, it had left him practically empty.

"So... Besides everything that I've heard from other hunters about you guys... The apocalypse? Seriously? What have you two been up to?"

Nah. She was just a childhood friend. Really, their little fling had just been that...a fling. He didn't have any feelings for her still. No, that'd just be plain stupid, and he wasn't stupid.

"Oh you know... Saving people. Hunting things. The family business as usual."


	6. Where's Sammy?

So they ended up drinking for most of the day. Well, Cat had always thought that being around the Winchester men meant being able to hold your liquor.

But they didn't really drink. They had sips every now and then. Still-by the end of the day, when sunset creeped in through the windows, and left Cat feeling like a warm tiger lying out hot in the savannah, they all felt a light buzz. That was the first sign of the end.

Cat kept glancing at Dean. She couldn't help it, and anyway, she wasn't the only one being sneaky. She caught those little peeks from him. That liar. As if nothing had ever happened between them...

Ah, that was needy talk. She wasn't needy.

All she thought about, and that definitely did not include Dean Winchester, was what was going to happen next.

"So, guys. Nice catching up with you and all, but I've gotta be heading back, and-" she began, grabbing her coat. She planned on checking out then.

"Whoa, are you crazy?" Sam protested. "You're barely on your feet."

Cat waved him off impatiently.

"Like hell I am." She took a step forward and suddenly gasped. She had that sudden rush of almost falling-like when you sleep and you turn over and suddenly feel as if you're falling from the top of a high cliff, when in reality it's only the other aide of your bed. Okay. Perhaps she had drank a little more than she had thought.

Weird thoughts of angels fluttered in her mind. Sam and Dean had told her about in their wacky year, jump starting the apocalypse and all. She was a hunter herself, and yet, even she found it hard to believe in _angels. _

_"What are you doin' kid?" Bobby asked, catching her in prayer. Cat jumped at the sound of his voice._

_"Oh... Uh... Nothing." Hastily, she hid her hands behind her back. _

_Bobby smiled kindly, the corners of his eyes making those odd crinkles Cat had observed only some people had when they smiled. She guessed that some people, mostly boring adults with boring jobs, didn't like smiling all that much. That was sad, in her opinion. People were sad. _

_"Listen, I don't mind prayer. Really, I don't. You're free here in my house, and if Dean or Sam bother you about it, just let me know, and I'll-"_

_Cat shook her head. She had had a bath after the burger king outing, and now, she was exhausted. She could've slept for a million years, and wouldn't have even noticed if world war three erupted._

_"No, no. That's...okay. I'm fine. I just want to sleep, that's all. And... Mom used to tell me to pray before I went to sleep and..." Tears sprang to her eyes. "It doesn't matter, anymore." Bobby kneeled down, with some effort, in front of her and took her hand in his. It was all rough and warm. Comforting. _

_"Let me tell you something. When I was your age, I used to be a praying man myself. I prayed every night for things to get better, for God to fix things, and fix my family." Cat met his steady gaze. "But nothing happened. My family didn't get better, my dad still liked to get angry and hit me and my mom, and my mom would pretend that it didn't happen. And you know what I've realised, kid?"_

_Cat's voice was as as small as she felt. It barely pierced the air, but it reached Bobby's ears enough for him to answer._

_"What?"_

_"When you tell God all your problems, and he doesn't answer, that's him basically telling your ass no." _

_Cat was amazed. No one had ever talked to her like that-as if she mattered, as if she had any idea what she talked about. Most grownups liked telling you things they knew and you didn't, and when you asked questions, defied the rules, they exploited your ignorance in favor of getting what they wanted. Bobby wasnt like that. He was different. _

_Now she really liked Bobby. She had a feeling he liked her too, and that was why he was telling her that awful truth. He did like her. _

_"If you feel like he's saying no, then it doesn't matter. Is he telling you no?"_

_Cat thought about it. She had been on the streets for about a day, but already she had a new home, and a nice, clean, warm bed. She supposed he wasn't. So she shook her head._

_"Well, then it does. Night kid."_

_He turned out the light as he left, leaving her to stare after him in sad wonderment. _

But she had prayed to them all. Who knew? Maybe that angel friend of theirs, Castiel, had been listening.

"Here, let me help you-" Dean offered, midair from the chair he had found in the corner.

"No. I'm okay. I'm..." Just as she said that, she saw white, and orange spots all around her, spinning, and the sensation gave her stomach a run for its money. She stepped backward, and tripped, landing hard on her butt. "Okay."

Dean sighed, grabbed her hand, hoisted her up, and led her back to the bed.

"I just need...water. Or coffee. The. I'll be fine." She clenched tightly at the blankets beneath her, feeling the rough fabric that made her legs itch at night.

"Uh-uh. You're not going anyway. Not on my watch." He motioned for Sam to get the water, while he sat beside Cat and made sure she didn't hurl the contents of her stomach all over the place.

"You never could actually hold down your liquor."

"Shut up."

"Remember that time when you got so drunk you slept for two days straight, and had that massive hangover?"

Cat groaned, leaning over.

"Don't remind me. You nearly killed me, you were so annoying."

Dean chuckled gleefully. "But at least you never drank like that again. Man, you got into so much trouble with Bobby." He laughed again.

"Again-shut up. Or I'll throw up all over you."

Dean leaned back, hands raised in surrender.

"Whoa, let's not go overboard here."

"Well, shut up then."

Dean shook his head, and gently, without shaking her, rubbed her back.

"Seriously, why did you leave?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"I'm serious, Cat. Why?"

"Sam, where's that water?" She looked up, and Sam was nowhere to be seen. She frowned. "Sam?"

She sat up, and as she did so, Dean's hand fell from the middle of her back. The sudden lack of warmth sent goosebumps crawling over her skin.

The hotel, in all its cramped glory, was empty of Sam. The only other room was the bathroom, and the door was wide open with the light shut off.

"Sammy? If this is a joke, seriously dude, you have the worst jokes ever."

"I don't think this is a joke, Dean." She stood to her feet and went over to the window. The impala was still parked outside, Sam nowhere in sight.

Dean furrowed his grows, frowning deeply. He seemed both worried and a tiny bit pissed off.

"I know... But I was really hoping it was one of his lame ass jokes."


	7. Cas and Cat

**a/n: I've got to me honest. This is my first supernatural fic. If there's anything I've gotten wrong with Sam, Dean, and Cas, it's my fault. **

**Anyway, I really enjoy this story, and I liked writing this chapter. Thanks for the reviews! Glad some are enjoying it! **

Once Cat and Dean were absolutely sure Sam wasn't anywhere in the hotel, Cat checked out, hopped in beside Dean in the impala, and off they went.

Dean was immediately on the line with Bobby.

"What is it this time, knucklehead?" His sarcastic drawl from the other end made Cat smile a bit. She missed Bobby.

"Listen, Bobby. I don't have much time. Sam's missing."

"What? Dean-"

"I know, I know. Watch each other's backs, yeah, I know. But I need you to do something for me. I need you to call every hunter you know, and ask around if any one of them knows about us, and about Sam setting Lucifer free."

"What good is that gonna do? Of course they all know who did it."

"Yeah," the line under Dean's jaw tensed for a moment. "Okay. You've got a point. But I just gotta be sure. Check around, and see if anyone was actually anywhere near our vicinity when Sam disappeared."

"When was that?"

"Just a few minutes ago."

"Okay, I will. What are you gonna do?"

"Go looking for Sam. I'm gonna call Cas, and ask for his help."

"Alright. Be careful, Dean."

"I always am. There's a chance that it might be just a bunch of rednecks who kidnapped him, like last time."

"What do you mean-"

"Anyway, gotta go. Cat says hi, by the way." With that, he flipped his cell phone shut, throwing it on the seat besides them both.

For a second, there was just silence. Then-

The sound of wings beating, and someone saying by Cat's ear,

"What's the emergency?"

Cat jumped, wincing at her cracked ribs, and shouted, "HolyshitDeanisthatthatangelyouweretalkingabout?"

Her brown eyes were bugged, wide like a goldfish's, her mouth agape. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Cas, this is Cat. Cat, this is Cas." Cat eyed, him suspiciously. Even in the car, she could tell 'Cas' was tall. He had dark, slightly mussed up black hair, cropped short, a narrow nose, intense blue eyes, and a two o clock shadow on his cheeks. He had rough features, but Cat actually found herself liking them. The only peculiar thing about this man was the fact he was wearing a long, tan trenchcoat, and his eyes appeared... Ancient. When she looked at him, she could feel he was an angel. His movements were stiff, and he held his chin high up, as if he was used to being superior. But he didn't seem very arrogant.

Maybe that was just her impression.

"Hello, Cat. I assume that is short for Catherine?" He extended a hand, with a curious tilt of his head to her. He stared at her in open fascination.

"Uh...yeah. You know, if you don't mind me saying, you sure don't look like an angel." Cat grinned.

"Oh. Oh! Yes, sorry, this was the only vessel that actually...worked for me, and if his appearance startles you, I'm-"

"For god's sake, Cas. She's flirting with you." Dean sighed. He sounded irritated.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Cat watched him, watched as his brows drew together in deep thought, lips pursed, until finally he smiled. It was an odd smile-as if he wasn't sure how to smile and was just going on what he saw. But it was cute.

Castiel, still smiling, leaned forward, and whispered in her ear, "You have nice hair."

Cat broke into delighted laughter. Had an angel literally just tried to flirt with her? She had teased him first, but she liked this Cas. He seemed all right.

"What? What did he say?" Dean was concerned. This was becoming a strange night. Well, from outside perspective, life as a hunter was strange, so every single day and night was strange, but this one... Sammy was gone, and had Cas actually tried to flirt? And did Cat enjoy it?

"Nothing. He just said my hair looks nice. Thank you by the way." Cat beamed at him. "You don't look so bad yourself, Mr. Angel."

Before Cas could reply, Dean cut in.

"We need your help looking for Sam, Cas."

"He's disappeared?" Puzzlement was evident in his tone.

"Well, duh, that's why I called you."

"What do you want me to do?"

Dean glimpsed Cas in the back seat in the rearview mirror.

"Use your Spidey senses."

"My what?"

"You're an angel. You can pop in anywhere you want. I want you to try and pickup Sam's trail, and follow it." _'Well, that certainly did not whatsoever explain the scarefest I got a couple minutes ago. He can teleport?' _Oh, god, Cat was feeling strange. She felt as if she were stuck somewhere between reality and fantasy, hiding away in her own pocket universe where nonsense was sense, and sense was nonsense.

"Where did you last see him?"

"In this hotel room, a couple miles back." Dean looked to Cat for help.

She said, "It's called the 'Pomeroy', and the room I was staying at was 14a."

Cas nodded.

"You know, Catherine,"

"It's just Cat."

His bright blue eyes met her own dark ones.

"He never mentioned you before." And right in front of her, disappeared. Cat couldn't help the gasp that followed. She had heard he teleported, Dean had said, but it was one thing for an angel to pop in behind you, scare the living daylights out of you, and then, well, disappear right before you.

Dean glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, you'll never get used to that. Trust me."

Cat leaned back in her seat, the leather cool against her skin. In all their hurrying, she had accidentally packed her jacket inside her duffel bag, where Dean had thrown haphazardly into the trunk. Dean had his window rolled half way down, so that a small gust of cool, night air filtered in, making her shiver.

Dean noticed, and instantly rolled his window back up.

"You cold?" He inquired.

"Nah," she replied, even as another shiver shook her frame.

"The heating system's broke. Long story short, Sam was stupid enough to drive my baby into a building, just to piss off a spirit."

Cat smiled.

"Sounds like him."

"Here," Dean, careful with the wheel, shrugged off his heavy duty coat and handed it to her. "Take this." He was left in just a T-shirt.

"Thanks."

"No, problem."

The rumbling pur of the engine was the only sound for a while. They both may have had history, but they still had quite a lot to sort over. Mostly it began with Cat's vague answer to why she left, and it bugged Dean more than he would ever admit that she wasn't willing to say. It annoyed him too, and he had to wonder: what was so bad that she wouldn't tell him, of all people, about the reason for her sudden departure?

He didn't know, but he would make it his life's mission to find out. First, he had to find Sammy.

"Where do you think Sam is?"

"I don't know. But I'm gonna kill the sonofabitch that took him, though."

Cat, with his coat practically swallowing her body, asked,

"What makes you think he was taken?"

Dean rolled his eyes. Again. Cat had that effect on him.

"Okay, that was a dumb question."

"Yep."

"On the risk of sounding even more dumb, who would want to kidnap Sam?"

"We've made so many enemies over the last couple of years... It's really hard to say. It could be anybody, but, my bet is on Crowley."

"The crossroad demon you told me about."

"Yeah. It sounds like his," he faked a British accent, which for the record, sounded funny with his deep voice. "Cup of tea."

"You know, Dean, when I was at a bar a couple of weeks ago just to unwind after a really shitty day, some guy came up to me."

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry, it's not that kind of story. After a couple of drinks, I found out he was a hunter, like us, and I asked him about you and Sam. I was curious as to what you two Dumbo's would get up to. He told me that Sam Winchester had started the apocalypse, and that his brother helped. I thought, Sam and Dean would never be dumb enough to do that, but... I ran into a demon the other day, and she told me. I let her go, which was a really dumb decision, because..." Cat rolled up her pants leg, and showed Dean a long, jagged pink scar that ran from her calf to her mid thigh. Dean winced.

"What was the demon's name? Tell me, and I'll kill her."

Cat shook at her head at him, smiling sadly.

"I never actually found out, but thanks. Anyway, the point is, I guess you two must have gone through one hell of a year, and... I keep saying it, but I'm sorry, I should've been there."

"You should have. But you're here now, so... I guess that's all that matters, right?"

Cat closed her eyes, thinking things were fine between them now. "Right."

Dean kept on driving.

"Castiel is cute, I'll give him that." She mumbled, from out of nowhere.

"What about me? Don't you like my good charms?"

"Nah. You were always just a ladies man."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Dean was itching to find Sam, but a tiny little part of his brain said that he wasn't going to do that if he went on a bloody rampage. He needed something to distract him from thoughts of Sam being tortured and killed. He knew he had to keep a game face on.

"You should." Another quiet moment.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"You never told Cas about me?"

He signed heavily.

"Ah, hell. No, I didn't."

"Why?"

"Why do you think? The more people knew about you, the more monsters would start wanting to cut off of your head and serve it on a platter. I needed to keep you safe. There. Satisfied?"

Cat opened her eyes.

"Not for a while, but we can work on that."

Dean opened his mouth in shock. Had he... Did she...? What?

"Relax. I was just kidding."

He was stunned to silence by her. Perfect. Usually he was the one with all the great one liners, but he had forgotten how good she was at them. After all, she had grown up watching him try to score with different girls.

"Cat got your tongue?" She laughed.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

"I do recall doing that once upon a time."

Now she was quiet. He smirked. Dean: 1. Cat:0.


	8. Second, Minute, Hour

**_"Don't you know that life's worth,  
Living for the Second, minute, hour,  
Loving Every day 'cause,  
That's all the time you've got..._**

**_Don't you know that life's too short,  
And don't you know that life's worth,  
Living for the second, minute hour.." _**

**_-Second, Minute, Hour by: Flamboyant Bella_**

_She walked up the stairs, that familiar sinking feeling that something was wrong swallowing her. There was a shattered mirror to her left-the cracks ran up the once flawless surface in intricate patterns. Every once in a while there was a new detail, here and there, and that would flare up her desire to see the dream finished. Except it never did. _

_The carpeted floor felt nice against her bare feet, which was an odd sensation in all the horror. It was an anachronism, and she hated that it was in her nightmare in the first place. The contrast made the discovery all the more creepy. _

_"Mum?" As she approached the door, she happened to glance down, and that was when she noticed all the bloody footprints on the carpet. "Mum? Are you okay?"  
_

_She knew how it would play out. Yet, every time she dreamed this dream, and climbed the same spiral stairs, the shock would never go away. _

_"Mum?"_

_Her hand pressed against the already opened door-and gently, she pushed it all the way forward, and screamed at the sight she saw. _

_Her mum's green-based curtains were halfway torn from the window; one hid her mother's face from her. But she could see the body-and all the blood._

_"MUM!"_

There was a weight on her chest. Cat fought against it, struggling to scream. The weight became heavier-and as it did, her panic grew.

_'No, not this. Not right now.' _She thought. Hand on her chest, Cat sat up, gasping. Her whole upper body was engulfed in fire. Well, perhaps not literally-but at the moment Cat was too enraged to care. Hurrying, she grasped at empty air, searching, searching. Her fingers curled around empty air, and it was when she started seeing tiny, white stars that she realised, _'Side pocket. Now.'_

Her breath was coming in short spurts-shorter and shorter as the weight crushed down on her.

She needed to be calm. She needed stop panicking, for fuck's sake-seriously, that wouldn't help her current state. If anything, it would lead straight to her doom if she kept it up.

_'Remember what Bobby told you. 'Take deep, slow breaths. Doesn't matter if you can't get any air in-the deep breaths will help your brain figure out that it doesn't need to panic, and when it realises that, it'll be easier to breath'.' _

One hand still keeping tabs on her chest, she reached into her left side pocket of her coat and produced a small, blue device. She tipped the device into her mouth as quickly as possible, and sighed in relief. She was ecstatic that she could sigh and it wasn't like running a marathon up a mountain.

It took a minute for her to calm down-and to get the lost oxygen to her brain, but the moment passed, and Cat found she could breathe normally again.

She opened her eyes. She was still in Dean's car. The car parked. Turning her head, she looked out the window, and saw Dean approach, pocketing his black wallet. They were at some late-night gas station. The neon lights made her head hurt.

The pavement was bright, and slick with fresh rainwater.

Once Dean had hopped in, and turned on the ignition, she asked,

"How long...?"

"A couple hours. Hey, you okay?" He peered more closely at her, and touched her forehead. "You're clammy."

Cat nodded, waving him off.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just a bad dream, that's all."

"What about?"

"Nothing." She turned from his touch, and stared out the window at the wet, dark world.

"What's that in your hand?" Dean gestured at the inhaler. "You never had asthma."

"I don't."

"Then why-"

Cat heaved a long, drawn out sigh.

"I told you. I just had a bad dream. Now, let's hit the road, and find that Crowley guy."

Cat sensed his reluctance, and knowing Dean, she guessed he would pretend to put it off for the moment, and bring it up later, most likely at an inconvenient moment. He was annoying like that.

"Cat-"

"Dean."

He bristled.

"Okay, would you stop that?"

"Stop what?" She met his eyes. He was definitely pissed off now.

He rolled his eyes, and shifted the gear into drive.

"Whatever. We don't have time for this. Once we find Sammy, I'm gonna ask you what is going on with you, and you're gonna tell me."

"Sure." Dean shook his head. He didn't say anything after that.

Cat shifted a little in the seat, uncomfortable. She hated doing this to Dean, the emphasis on hate. She had missed him more than she would ever be willing to admit, that was obvious... But she didn't like the fact that he had changed. He was more aggressive-more cold. It had only been a few hours with him, and yet she immediately knew.

She couldn't tell him. He would want to help, but she didn't need his help. She had done just fine on her own. But...

Seeing that familiar coat, and the familiar car, and listening to the same music-it reminded her of everything she had missed.

'_Why couldn't he have been someone normal?' _She thought. '_Maybe we would have had a chance.'_

* * *

The pain in his head was excruciating. That particular sensation was no surprise. Hundreds of cases later, and the feeling was practically something he expected.

Sam opened his eyes, and was surprised at the company that stood in front of him.

"What...are you doing here?"


End file.
